The disciples hidden story
by warriorcats144
Summary: So when I tell these story's there not just story's they are memory's they are the scares left on my body the things I will never forget so plz understand I live this life so don't joke about it. Warning this is and abuse story once again i do not nor will i ever own kenichi the mightiest desciple


The disciples hidden story

Ive started remembering what I thought I had forgotten. Idk why. It could be because of my father. I was afraid to come home because of him. He was constantly screaming at me saying cruel things. Like "Im a mistake" or "Im usless" He always says he wished I was never born. That isint the worst part though the hitting was. He was a lot more violent when he was drunk. But even when he was sober he still hit. As you can probably tell when he gets mad he takes it out on me. He does everything from slapping to breaking to burning and everything in between. Ive almost died three times cause of him and that was when he was sober. To give you an idea of what it was like when he was drunk ill tell you a little story about last time he was drunk and violent. I promise this isint a kid friendly story.

So he came home late in the night drunker than he had bin a while. He comes stumbling into the living room. My mother sitting on the couch watching TV. My little sister honaka sitting on the floor eating a bowl of mac and cheese I made for her. Of course mom hadent made dinner. She usually didint. I did all the shopping cooking and cleaning. I also took care of honaka. Gave her baths fed her bought her food toys and cloths everything a little kid needs. Of course I had a job. I went to after school its just a fast food job but it pays the bills. It surprised me that I got it im only 13 after all. Mabe they could tell I really needed the job. Im only 14 so you can tel it hasent bin long since this happened.

(Any way back to story) I was sitting on the floor by the cofee table doing hw. "Kenichi shirihama" at the top of the paper and blank the rest of the way down its math not my best subject.

I lift my head as soon as I see my father stumbling in drunk and angrey. I grab honaka and pull her to me. I made a deal with father that if I took the beating without complaint he wouldint hit honaka But I dont know if itll ever stick if hes drunk. Honka is just a child I dont want her getting hit. I whisper for her to go to mom. She crawls over and curls into mom. I stand up then sit in front of the two girls hoping to protect them. I cringe and pull away as he walks closer and closer to me. He gets to the couch after an agonizingly slow approach. Suddenly his hand comes out and tangles in my short brown hair.I feel tears well in my brown eyes from the pain and sudden shock of being pulled of the couch by my hair. I cry out for mom to take honaka to her room and stay there till its safe.

I see them run and as soon as there gone fathers throws me down into the glass table. I scream out as I feel the glass chatter and the shards dig into my skin. I feel the blood puddling underneath me. I hear footsteps and look to see dad walk into the kitchen and grab another beer. I take the bit of time I have to crawl on hands an knees out and away from the glass shards. I pull out the glass shards fast as I can. I look upo to see my father watching me with a smirck on his face and a beer in his hand. Finally I get the last piece out. A scares second later father grabs my arm roughly pulling me to my feet just to get an elbow to the stomache and a knee to the face. Instead of falling I feel a hand wrap around my throat pulling me back up lifting me off my feet and slamming me back into the wall. I try to claw his hand away as I struggle to breath. I start to see the room get fuzzy I start to struggle less and let the exhaustin take over my limbs. I feel the hand loosen then drop me. The last thing I see is to horrible to think about but ill tell you. I thought mabe I would make it trough this time without to bad scarring but no he held a lighter in his hand and …..and he grabbed me by my collar and lit my shirt still on me on fire it burned so bad. So when I tell these storys there not just storys they are memorys they are the scares left on my body the things I will never forget so plz understand I live this life so dont joke about it.


End file.
